


Fish and their tanks

by FinnWritess



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aquariums, Boys In Love, Confessions, First Dates, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Humor, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romance, anyway this was fun to write i love these boys, i lowkey projected onto schlatt, im crushing on a friend send me help, now to pass out for an eternity, schlatt is so whipped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28339020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FinnWritess/pseuds/FinnWritess
Summary: “This is weird,” Schlatt says, stepping back. “Being able to touch you and shit.”Wilbur grins, and Schlatt ignores the way his stomach flips at the sight. “It means I can do this.”Without warning, he slaps Schlatt’s arm. Hard. Schlatt immediately flinches back, rubbing the spot with a hand, scowling. It’s definitely going to bruise.“Bitch.”-OR-Schlatt visits Wilbur. They visit an aquarium. Feelings are eventually confronted.
Relationships: Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot
Comments: 14
Kudos: 409





	Fish and their tanks

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so drained from christmas day and boxing day but hey!!! another schlattbur fic!!! i said i'd write another one, and it has taken a bit, but i had fun with this and i do want to write more in the future!

Schlatt can’t pull his eyes away from the photo on his phone; it’s one Wilbur had sent him moments ago, simply of him. It’s just to show what he’s wearing, a simple, slightly oversized sweater, jeans, boots, and his signature beanie.

Schlatt’s certain that even without the photo, he’d have been able to spot Wilbur in a crowd. For the past few months, the brit has consumed his every waking thought; not that Schlatt’s complaining, really, but it’s a little hard to focus when your brain simply wants to think of soft brown eyes and of thin, pale arms wrapping around him in a gentle hug.

His brain is a constant thrum of all the things he wants and all the things he wishes he could say, but he always swallows back the words, or his throat closes over and he can only choke out a half truth. But now he stands here, phone in hand, an image of Wilbur displayed across the screen, in the middle of an airport.

Schlatt’s heart beats like a drum against his chest as he finally tears his gaze upward to scan over the crowd. He can’t imagine just what it’ll be like to see Wilbur in person, not just pixels and a slightly delayed voice over a discord call, or on a stream.

The crowd of the airport is a throng of people, living and breathing flesh, moving and undulating almost as one. Schlatt breathes out, leans more heavily against the wall and glances back down at his phone.

He’s hypnotised by the hint of soft brown eyes, by the small smile, by the way the sweater hung off of Wilbur’s frame, exposing a bit of his collarbone and bunching partway down his thigh. It’s an effort for Schlatt to lift his gaze to scan the crowds again.

He spots Wilbur this time; he’s tall, and practically looms over half the crowd. Schlatt turns off his phone and shoves it into his pocket, raising his free hand to return Wilbur’s wave with a smile.

“Hey, loverboy,” Schlatt greets with an easy-looking grin- it was less than effortless, but no one needs to know that- the second Wilbur is close enough. Wilbur responds by crashing into him in a hug, laughing softly.

“Hey, dude.”

Schlatt lets himself melt into the hug a little; it’s warm, and comforting, and it feels a little like coming home. He can only pray that not too much emotion has leaked into his expression.

“This is weird,” Schlatt says, stepping back. “Being able to touch you and shit.”

Wilbur grins, and Schlatt ignores the way his stomach flips at the sight. “It means I can do this.”

Without warning, he slaps Schlatt’s arm. Hard. Schlatt immediately flinches back, rubbing the spot with a hand, scowling. It’s definitely going to bruise.

“Bitch.”

Wilbur laughs. “Be a little nicer to your host.”

“I would if my host didn’t just bruise me,” Schlatt complains, gripping the handle of his suitcase.

“Your fault for being able to bruise so easily,” Wilbur responds with another grin that makes Schlatt’s heart leap. “Come on. Unless you want to stay here for two weeks?”

Schlatt pretends to think on it for a minute. “It’s not too bad here. They have a food court.”

Wilbur rolls his eyes. “Of course you’d choose a food court over me.”

Schlatt laughs, and steps over to Wilbur’s side. He deliberately doesn’t look up as they begin to walk across the airport; he knows if he does, he’ll end up mesmerised by the way the light frames Wilbur’s face, and might actually pass out there in the airport.

“What happened to you and the food court?” Wilbur asks after a moment.

“I’m becoming a cannibal,” Schlatt says, deadpan. Wilbur lets out a wheezing laugh that’s so loud it sounds painful, and pauses to double over.

“I can’t breathe,” Wilbur wheezes out, wiping a stray tear from his eye. 

“That’s not good for your health.” 

Wilbur straightens up, clearly struggling to keep from laughing again, and glares at Schlatt. “I’m this close to just sending you home.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“You wouldn’t, you love me.”

Wilbur looks at him for a moment too long before responding. “Shut up.”

Schlatt decides not to read too much into it. “You know that’s the one thing I can’t do.”

Wilbur snorts as the automatic doors of the airport open before them. “My car’s not far.”

Schlatt takes a moment to let the outside air hit his face before he takes a breath in and follows Wilbur again. Two weeks. He can survive two weeks.

*********

He can’t survive two weeks. Schlatt’s been here for one day, and he’s already a mess. He can’t focus, can’t function properly.

He’d hoped that through this trip, he’d manage to work through his feelings, realise there wasn’t a chance they’d be returned, and finally be able to view Wilbur as nothing beyond a good friend. Instead, the constant flow of less-than-heterosexual thoughts about Schlatt’s friend rises to a crashing crescendo.

He finds his gaze follows Wilbur more than it should, tracing his jawline or watching the way his eyes flick over a room. It’s harder than ever for Schlatt to drag his gaze away.

Everything was easier when it was over a screen, when he could simply switch off his webcam and mask his feelings. Now, there’s no escape from Wilbur’s bright smile or loud, bubbly laugh. Schlatt’s certain this trip is going to be the death of him.

********

“An aquarium?” Schlatt stares at the building before them, head tilted slightly and a hand lifted to shield his eyes from the sun rays. “Seriously?”

“What, don’t you like fish?” Wilbur smiles, tilting his head in the cutest possible way. Schlatt can feel his soul leaving his body.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re taking me on a date.”

Wilbur’s grin falters for just a second. “Shut up and let me pay for us to look at fish.”

“Host knows best,” Schlatt says, stepping aside with a flourish of his hand. “Lead the way.”

“You,” Wilbur says slowly, “Are truly your own brand of idiot.”

“Thank you, I worked hard on it.”

Wilbur rolls his eyes, and steps up to the ticket booth. “Two passes, please.”

“Here you are.” The bored-looking young lady behind the desk hands over two tickets, looking like she wants to be literally anywhere else. Wilbur silently takes them and hands over some money, then he steps away and Schlatt follows him inside.

“Charming staff,” he comments dryly.

“They always are,” Wilbur responds, no humour to his tone. There’s nothing but silence as another staff member checks their tickets, then gestures for them to go inside.

The second they step in, they’re absolutely envolped by the sea. It’s a glass walkway, fish swimming over them and under them and beside them. A shark passes right over Schlatt’s head, and he forgets how to breathe.

“Cool, right?”

“Definitely cool,” Schlatt agrees, too awestruck to make a stupid joke. 

“You gotta see the eels.” Wilbur grabs him by the wrist and drags him through the aquarium; Schlatt wants to complain that he was looking at the sharks, but the words die in his throat as he focuses on the way Wilbur’s hand curls around his arm. 

They stop in front of a tank of eels. The water around them sparks with electricity, and Schlatt nearly shudders at the thought of touching the water. Wilbur’s hand is still locked in a firm hold around his wrist.

“Think they create enough volts to kill a man?”

“Maybe,” Wilbur replies, seeming to just then notice he’s still gripping Schlatt’s wrist, and he drops it with a small look of embarrassment. Schlatt isn’t game enough to try reaching for Wilbur’s hand, so he does the next best thing.

“Let’s find out, then.” He grabs Wilbur in a sudden bear hug, pinning his arms to his sides and managing to barely lift him off the floor. Wilbur lets out an almost-shriek, flailing his legs a little.

“Put me down!”

“You’re like, an inch off the ground,” Schlatt says, amused.

“That’s an inch too many.”

Schlatt’s hold on Wilbur gives out; they both crash to the floor. After a moment, Wilbur lets out a laugh. Schlatt finds himself laughing too as they untangle their limbs and pull themselves off of each other.

“Idiot,” Wilbur says, affection clear in his tone, and god if that doesn’t make Schlatt want to kiss him.

“I’ll train for a year then try again,” Schlatt says simply, tampering down his feelings.

“Please don’t feed me to the electric eels, I have so many subscribers.”

Schlatt snickers, then looks back at the eels. “This place is… really cool. Thanks for dragging me in here.”

“My pleasure,” Wilbur says, his voice soft. Schlatt doesn’t turn to look at him, keeping his gaze trained on the eels; he can see Wilbur’s reflection in the glass, can see the affection absolutely dripping from his expression.

_ Disgusting _ , Schlatt thinks as his own heart flip flops back and forth in his chest. A second later, Wilbur’s moved forward and has his chin rested atop Schlatt’s head.

“What are you doing?”

“Watching the eels,” Wilbur replies, unmoving.

“Then fucking stand next to me.”

“And let your head block my view?”

Schlatt scowls, and resigns himself to his fate. They stand there silently watching the eels for a minute before Schlatt feels something soft and warm slide into his hand; it’s Wilbur, gently intertwining their fingers. Schlatt can’t breathe, and by god he doesn’t dare move.

In the glass reflection, Schlatt can see Wilbur’s lips quirk up into a soft, stupid smile. They stay that way until finally Wilbur decides it’s time to see some of the other fish; Schlatt pretends it doesn’t hurt when he pulls away.

********

“I am  _ not  _ buying you a goddamn shark plushie.”

“Please?” Wilbur clutches a small gray shark plushie in his hands, giving Schlatt his best puppy eyes. 

“Get it yourself.”

Wilbur’s lips drop down into a frown. “Meanie.”

“It’s fucking expensive, Wilbur. I’m not spending that much on you.” Schlatt tells himself the idea of buying Wilbur the plushie like it’s a gift isn’t at all appealing.

“Fuck you,” Wilbur says, then steps over to the counter to buy it. Schlatt stares around the gift shop; maybe he’d have bought something, if there was anything here he actually liked.

Wilbur marches back over a second later, now clutching a receipt. “Jshark.”

“What?” 

“That’s his name. Jshark. He’s a reminder of you being a bitch and not buying me him.” Wilbur pauses. “And also he’s small. Like you.”

“I’m barely shorter than you,” Schlatt argues. Wilbur rests his chin atop Schlatt’s head for a moment to prove his point.

“Absolutely tiny.”

Schlatt steps away and scowls. “I hate you. I should just fly home right now.”

“Do it. No balls.”

Schlatt raises an eyebrow, and takes his phone out of his pocket. Wilbur’s expression immediately changes.

“I was kidding-”

Schlatt pockets his phone again. “Idiot.”

Wilbur doesn’t say anything, just gives him a look that is somewhat fond, and Schlatt really doesn’t have the mental capacity to work out what it means.

“You got your stupid shark, now can we get out of here?”

“Impatient,” Wilbur says, a familiar smile gracing his lips before he turns to lead the way out of the gift shop, and the aquarium. Schlatt knows already that he won’t be sleeping properly tonight, not with the way his mind keeps replaying the day’s events back to him.

**********

The door to the guest room creaks open right when Schlatt had almost managed to fall asleep. He sits up groggily, noting the time to be just after eleven pm. 

“I was trying to fucking sleep, Wilbur.”

“Sorry.” Wilbur’s voice is soft. He gently closes the door behind him; there’s a soft thud and then a click as it fully shuts. “I just… You had fun today, yeah?”

Schlatt blinks, his tired, confused brain trying to catch up. “Yeah, ‘course I did.”

Wilbur visibly relaxes a little. “So you’d… Maybe want to do something like that again?”

Schlatt’s more awake now, and can’t resist a joke. “What, try feeding you to eels?”

Wilbur laughs, but it’s tense. “No, I mean, like… A date?”

Schlatt freezes up for a second.  _ Oh. OH. _

“Today… Was a date?” Schlatt asks slowly.  _ This isn’t really happening, is it? It can’t be, it’s just a dream, it- _

“... Yeah.” Wilbur’s looking down now, fidgeting a little. “Look, I-”

“Yes.” Schlatt interrupts. “God, yes. I’d fucking love to.”

Wilbur looks up; his mouth seems to twitch a little, like he wants to smile but isn’t sure if he can let himself. “You’re serious?”

“Deadly.” Schlatt shifts a little so he’s seated more comfortably. “I want the stupid jokes and to buy you stupid plushies and to hold your stupid hand. Idiot.”

Wilbur smiles, then. “So how does a movie date sound? Just us, some snacks, netflix…”

Schlatt grins. “Sounds like it's a date, loverboy.”

Wilbur’s smile broadens, and he leans over to press a quick kiss to Schlatt’s cheek. Schlatt’s skin seems to tingle.

“Alright, that’s it.” Schlatt shuffles over a bit. “Get over here to cuddle or I  _ will  _ get on the next plane home.”

“You won’t,” Wilbur says, but climbs in next to him anyway, pulling Schlatt against him, the shorter’s back flush against his chest. Schlatt’s grinning like an idiot, and he knows it, but there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

“G’night,” Wilbur mumbles against the back of his neck. 

“There better be popcorn on our date,” Schlatt says, closing his eyes. “Or else.”

Wilbur doesn’t reply. Schlatt half suspects he’s already asleep. But he’s okay with that.

And he’s more than okay with staying here, Wilbur’s arms tight around him, as he falls asleep.


End file.
